


Chasing the Storm

by ThatOneDiviner



Category: Wizard101
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Queerplatonic Relationships, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-06-04 23:35:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15157733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatOneDiviner/pseuds/ThatOneDiviner
Summary: Not much is known about Scar. The fact that he showed up out of the blue, almost falling into Ravenwood's pit is almost all most of the school's student base knows about him. And frankly, given his holier-than-thou attitude, it's all most care to know. This suits Scar perfectly fine. Being named Godslayer by the deities themselves is a daunting prophecy, and one Scar has no intentions of fulfilling. After all, the most Scar and his group have to worry about right now is some old man who wants to resurrect his wife. That's hardly worldbreaking, right?





	1. The Catastrophe

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a placeholder for now until I can get my plot worked out and typed up. I thank you for your patience.

Scar followed Auryn, using the pieces of hair that caught on the underbrush as directional markers. He cursed. Why his mother had brought him out **here** of all places, he could never guess. Seers were notoriously quiet about their intentions, and Auryn had made no offer of commentary on this last minute decision.

Scar decided not to ask. The answers he wanted were rarely the ones given.

The forest clung ever closer to Scar's armor, grasping at the smooth metal. They were heading for the heart of the forest that surrounded their city, apparently. Scar had heard tales. Of magic doors that led to the other world islands, of beasts that would eat the naughty children that ran into the forest out of spite. He had thrown them all away as fairy tales. Auryn, however, knew something he did not. And this intrigued Scar. So it was with this in mind that he continued, ignoring the damp vines now brushing his hair out of his face. He spluttered for a second, nose wrinkling and eyes closing as he wiped them off.

"Not much further." Auryn said, her bell-like voice breaking the silence that had hung over the pair for the past few hours.

Scar nodded. He dared not speak, now suspecting how little he knew about the deepest folds of the once familiar forest. The duo continued on in silence until eventually the vines around them drew up, forming the ceiling of a tunnel more than the curtain that had covered the previous part of their journey. While the area around them did not become any drier, it became safe for Scar to use his magic to form an invisible umbrella over his head now that he had room to do it. Auryn followed suit a few seconds later. Soon enough, even the trees began to clear, a softer, shorter grass peeking through the thinning underbrush. Auryn exhaled softly. They were nearing their destination.

The forest eventually gave way to a clearing. In the middle stood a podium, and on it was a door, hinges rusty and moss growing on both sides. Whatever paint the door ahd once proudly boasted was now cracked, or completely gone in some places. All in all, it was, in Scar's opinion, a thoroughly unimpressive door.

"So this is a world door?" Scar asked pointedly, one eyebrow arched.

"Yes. I have a key too. It should lead you to one of the oldest schools of magic I know. You will be safe to learn your craft there." Auryn answered, ignoring her child's irreverence.

Scar warily agreed, but still eyed the door cautiously. "You are sure it will work?"

"Magic does not just stop because it falls into disrepair. It may transport you a few years forward or backward in time, but you will arrive at Ravenwood. I recommend leaving soon. Leon cannot hide our disappearances forever."

Scar nodded, laying a gloved hand on the key. He hesitated briefly before completely taking it from Auryn's hands. "Take care Mom. I refuse to come back to a dead family."

Auryn shook her head and smiled. "You will not, I guarantee you of that." she said, kissing the top of Scar's head. "May your flight be true."

Scar closed his eyes, a tear briefly lining his lashes. "It will be." With that, he turned to the door and pushed the key into the lock. It took a little bit of fiddling with, as disuse **did** apparently affect the physical elements of the door, but eventually he was able to pull the door open, albeit slowly and with much effort on his part. The old wood was not taken to moving, and was making the job as difficult for Scar as it could. When it was fully opened the door revealed a void. Scar paused, reaching out to try and touch the nothingness beyond the door. To his amazement, the darkness engulfed his hand, and it went through, rather like water. While he could not see his hand anymore, he could still feel it and move it. Taking a shuddering breath, he stepped through. The void engulfed him, though he thanked the gods that at least it was not cold. It was more like plunging into lukewarm water.

A muffled _thump_ behind him told him that the door had shut of its own accord. And with that he was moving through time and space, through a place where neither had meaning. This journey through the astral plane could have been hours, or mere minutes, but what Scar did know was that it ended suddenly, with the uncomfortable sensation in one's stomach that indicates they are falling.

Great.


	2. The Drakes, and Other Totally Unrelated Students

Tanner Skullwalker was going about his day. He was in a good mood, having just had a quite entertaining conversation with a person who he thought was probably the cutest Conjurer in Ravenwood. Ellie was her name. She had dark umber skin with the biggest brown eyes he had ever seen. And her perfect curly blonde hair? The icing on the cake. Well, maybe not exactly. The fact that both of his brothers had approved of her when he had brought her over on a 'totally not a date, I swear, she just wanted some help learning some new Life spells and who was I to refuse?' had been the icing on the cake.

Of course he wouldn't admit it, but talking to his friends had become preferable to talking to his actual family members. Both of his older brothers had been torn up over their mother's death and their father's disappearance and had withdrawn. Tanner had been understanding for a time, but as the days went by he had grown more and more lonely. It was probably best that he left them to their own ways. They were kind enough not to remark about his levity. Each of them had turned a blind eye to the others' coping mechanisms.

Speaking of, it was probably time to head to the Necromancy seminar. Or lecture. Malorn always insisted on calling it something that was almost directly in contrast to how the classes actually went. Turns out being appointed a Teacher's Aid last minute made class planning difficult, and Malorn was relying on the former professor's lesson plans to get him through the period. Which meant something invariably went wrong. No person, no matter how calculating, could reasonably predict what would happen in a full class of thirty or so students handling the spirits of the dead. On-the-spot exorcisms had become classroom entertainment, and was one area Malorn was quickly becoming an expert in.

Tanner was quite happy to be witness to today's amusement.

He strolled into the Death School's now-designated area, whistling an almost cheery tune. Malorn gave no outward indication that he had heard his younger brother, but the ghost of a smile flickered at the corner of his lips.

"Any luck?" he finally asked, husky voice breaking the silence that had fallen after Tanner had stopped whistling.

"She says she's free next Friday evening, if any of us want help catching up on homework. I know Adrian's been dealing with the undead infestations and you've been teaching so I'm guessing both of you probably need this." Tanner said.

"And I wouldn't suppose **you** would need it? We've been trying to keep you in school, so heaven help me if I find out your grades are below sea level." Malorn replied, voice lifting slightly in amusement. "Or, dare I suggest - you need this for social reasons?" This time he turned around to face Tanner, raising an eyebrow and letting a shit-eating grin crawl across his face. Tanner rolled his eyes, but said nothing. Malorn wasn't wrong and Tanner was unwilling to disturb him, as this was the first time in weeks Tanner had seen Malorn in something even resembling a good mood.

"Thought so." Malorn finished. "We've got a few minutes before class. You might as well relax. And if you dig through my case you might even find a few fruitcakes. I don't technically have a classroom, so **technically** food can't be banned."

Tanner accepted that invitation willingly, hurrying over to his brother's satchel and digging through the mass of papers and cards that were haphazardly stashed in there. It took a little bit of digging, but eventually he came across a paper-wrapped package. He grabbed it and took it out, stuffing the cakes in his mouth. "Sho what'sh the plan for todayf?" he asked through a mouthful of food.

This time, it was Malorn's turn to roll his eyes. He wrinkled his nose for a split second before answering. "Honestly, just review. I can't say when, but I've got a pop quiz lined up sometime in the near future. It would probably behoove you to study for it."

"Mmmmm. So bets on how today goes wrong?" Tanner said, tossing the now empty wrapper into the abyss that the Death School had formerly occupied.

Malorn let out an exasperated sigh. "Not following instructions? Honestly that's all it boils down to and you know it. I'm not rising to that bait again."

"Too late."

Malorn side-eyed his brother. "You really don't want another rant about this. I'm about ready to go off on everyone in the class. I mean, I don't think this stuff is all that hard. Hell, a student can teach it!"

"And yet you keep getting foiled by natural stupidity." Tanner pointed out. "Though I suppose it's impossible to foolproof something entirely. You think you've done it, and then people will just find another new way to fuck it up entirely. I also suppose this is why you being a teacher is so amusing. Better you than me, at any rate."

"You just like seeing me get annoyed." Malorn said.

"You know it." Tanner said, having what was his first full belly laugh in a month.

Malorn hummed noncommitally. Once again a small smile worked its way onto his face, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared when a booming roll of thunder sounded overhead. A storm was gathering. Malorn slumped his shoulders. "I don't have a bloody roof, man." he said, directing his complaint at the tree that was the center of the school ring. As if in response, the branches overhead wove together to form a crude canopy to shelter the area from the rain.

"Much obliged." Malorn said, hurrying to inspect the storm from the safety of the branches. It was centered around a small eye overhead, dark purple clouds roiling and twisting around in a rapidly accelerating circle. Tanner got up and walked to Malorn's side. He stuck a hand out from under the cover of the tree. There was a strong wind, but no rain.

"I don't like this." Tanner said.

"No shit." Malorn said, squinting as he peered at the center. It had grown in size and taken on a glassy appearance. "I think it may be a portal." he said as the tangy metallic taste of wild magic coated his tongue. "Go get some of the teachers. And tell people class is cancelled for the day."

"Coward." Tanner teased as he made his way to the other classrooms. "Give me five."

Lightning flashed around the portal and behind the glass a figure became more apparent. It was armored, and falling. Fast.

"Not quite enough. Go!" Malorn ordered, stepping out from under the branches to run to the edge of the abyss. Not that portals were usually bad news, but the whole dramatic stormy entrance and the unfortunate timing of its appearance had Malorn on edge. He had already seen more than enough of these in the past month. He'd rather not have to deal with another reappearance of his father.


	3. And There Were Three

Adrian was unsure why he was being brought to the headmaster's office. He'd been doing well on the street sweeps, or at least he thought he was doing well. The undead were still a problem plaguing Wizard City but with the help of several student volunteers their numbers had diminished over the past month. He sincerely hoped this was not a notice of termination - neither he nor his brothers could really afford to lose any source of money they could get right now.

His mind was racing through the possibilities as he pushed open the heavy oaken door with his shoulder to find the headmaster, all of the teachers, Malorn, and some guy Adrian had never seen before. Malorn had a hand to his nose and Adrian noticed a drying layer of black blood on his face. "What happened?" Adrian asked, walking over and motioning for his brother to remove the hand. Malorn grunted in pain, but moved his hand. Once he did the blood started flowing again.

"I was punched. Now please hurry or it'll wind up dripping everywhere." Malorn managed. Adrien nodded and placed a few fingers on his brother's nose. He felt a warm tingle surge through his fingers and a few seconds later there was a loud pop. Malorn swore.

"That was **broken**!" Malorn yelled, looking at the boy on the floor. The boy shrugged, armor clinking together. He appeared to be trying to look apologetic, but his eyes kept wandering around the room. Adrian took a closer look at him. He had an air of propriety, with his meticulously maintained waist length pony tail and well made armor. If it weren't for a few splashes of mud that were on the armor, it would be in perfect shape. Adrian suspected those would be taken care of once the stranger had the opportunity. And - there! Black blood lining the right gauntlet's knuckles.

"Be careful washing that stuff off. Undead blood's known for its bad effects on living beings." Adrian advised the stranger.

The stranger nodded. "I know that well. But thank you." His voice was sharp and clear. It cut through silence easily. But he was hesitant, fumbling over the words in his mouth.

"You're not from here." Adrian guessed.

"No."

Headmaster Ambrose cut in. "That is an interrogation you will have to make another day, young Mister Drake. For now, this man stays with us until we can ensure that Wizard City will be safe if we let him walk free. I called you here to escort your brother to the infirmary. I'm afraid you're going to have to wait for medical care for the moment Malorn - Moolinda will be occupied with testing our new arrival. I will send her to you when we're done."

"I can wait." Malorn replied, heading for the exit. He picked up his staff by the entrance. "Come on, let's go." Adrian hesitated for a moment before following, taking one last look at the stranger before leaving the building. Malorn followed, shutting the door behind them.

"So what _did_ happen?" Adrian asked, stopping to take a better look at his brother's nose. It was better than it had been, but Adrian noticed the bridge had been shifted to the left just the slightest bit.

"I caught him by the arm before he fell into the pit where the Death school once was. I tried talking to him while I was helping him up. He speaks a modified dialect of our magical tongue. Can't really place it. I asked him to state who he was and what he was doing. When he refused to answer either, I told him my name and that I wasn't a threat, in the hopes that he would take my arm and make it easier to pull him up. Well, he did. And when I had him up on stable ground he flat out punched me. Shows what I know. No good deed goes unpunished." Malorn explained.

"There was no instigation on your part?"

"What would I have had to instigate? I don't know the guy. All I know is he fell out of the sky and since I'm not a horrible human being I caught him before he could fall. That doesn't exactly warrant a fist to the face." Malorn said as Adrian finished up his exam. They both knew it was superficial. With what had already been done and Malorn's accelerated rate of healing there would be no way to get it to set properly.

Adrian looked at Malorn, raising an eyebrow. "I could..." he offered, trailing off.

"I am not fucking breaking my nose _again_ just to look prettier when it's all healed." Malorn said. Adrian snorted. So much for that. "I'll decline the offer made in apparent interest, thank you very much."

"My loss." Adrian said. "I'd pay you back by letting you get one in on me you know~"

Malorn sighed. "Tempting, but still no. I don't need a pretty nose and honestly, when's the last time you saw me in proper daylight without a mask? No one's going to notice if my nose is a little wonky now."

"Except for you." Adrian stated, gesturing towards the Ravenwood entrance. "Now let's get you to the infirmary. I'm sure the wait for the doc will be entirely pleasant."

Malorn ignored him. Adrian was right, of course, but that didn't mean Malorn had to give him that credit. The two brothers walked to the small building and waited. When Miss Wu finally showed up, neither one of them could get anything out of her during the short checkup. Whatever had happened in that building was remaining under wraps until it was time to tell. Adrian and Malorn left the infirmary, more than a little unsatisfied with the outcome. Thankfully for them, it wouldn't be long until they got some answers.


	4. Troubleseeker

Scar sat, legs crossed, in front of the seven teachers and the headmaster. The two brothers - Drake brothers, if he had heard correctly - had left and the room fell silent. The student Necromancer had been alternatively grumbling and swearing up a storm. Scar hadn't realized how comforting his immediate reaction would be, as he felt the weight of eight pairs on eyes on him. He shifted, armor uncomfortably warm against his skin.

"What do you want?" he decided to ask, looking around to return the glare of a tall, bald man dressed in soft yellow robes trimmed with royal blue accents.

An older, bearded man waved a hand. The bald man stopped his outright glaring, but Scar noticed his mouth creased and his eyes narrowed as he looked away. Scar cautiously let his gaze wander to the other teachers. A fire elf - Pyromancer, probably - a matronly fairy dressed in teal and white. Thaumaturgy? A smartly dressed frog rounded out the elemental trio, with the regal and rich golds and purples that marked a Diviner. The spiritual trio was no less eccentric - a cow, dressed in fancy green silks imported from Mooshu. She was likely the Theurgy teacher. The bald man was likely the Conjuring teacher, though Scar couldn't bring himself to look at the man to get a better glance at him. However, Scar was forced to when he saw no blacks or vibrant reds among those there. Was there no Necromancy teacher? Scar was disconcerted, but pushed the thought to the back of his head. There was still one last teacher, in a snappy tan suit and maroon tie to match his overcoat.

With the exception of the Conjuring teacher, most of them were looking at Scar with mild curiosity. Scar even thought he noticed the frog staring at him with a mild interest.

The old man who had to be the headmaster spoke up. "If you're to stay at Ravenwood, we will need to enroll you as a student. To do that we must figure out which school of study you take to the most. That is simple - all you have to do is answer the questions we ask you, and you will be placed."

"I don't intend to stay. My charge is not here."

"You would not have been brought here if there was no greater reason. Magic may not always explain, but you are no novice wizard. I expect you should know by now to trust where the Spiral brings you." the headmaster said.

Scar grimaced and pinched his eyes shut. His knuckles whitened against the grip of his bow, nails digging into the leather wrapping. The old man was right, but damned if Scar was going to admit it. Hadn't Auryn even specifically said that he would be brought here? So what then, was the charge he was assigned to?

"If it helps any - my name is Ambrose. And while this may or may not be comforting I will admit to knowing as much about why you are here as you do at this moment. So for the moment, please play along and take the test. Who knows, you may even like your stay here at Ravenwood." Ambrose said. Scar grunted in acknowledgement, but didn't argue as he was offered a hand up. Scar returned his bow to his waist and stood up. Ambrose was kind enough to ignore that Scar didn't take his hand, but the offense was not lost on some of the teachers.

The bald man opened his mouth to protest, but Ambrose silenced him with a shake of his head.

The test itself was as simple as Ambrose had said it would be. The questions, while certainly confusing specific, were easy enough to answer, and within no time Scar had been placed in the school of Divination. With this announcement the frog was practically bouncing on his feet as he walked up to greet Scar. "My newest student! Your arrival was a bit flashy, but no matter! All of us at the school of Divination have a flare for the dramatic. My name here is technically Professor Balestrom, but you can call me Halston! I'll be your primary teacher during your stay here at Ravenwood. I should probably take you to see the school, so if you would follow me -" he said. Scar wasn't quite sure if the man ever took breaths between his sentences with how fast he was going. Scar would not have been surprised if the man suddenly dropped dead of excitement. However, the introduction was cut short by Ambrose.

"Not just yet Halston. There is still paperwork to be filed. If you would follow me, we can find Mr. Lincoln in Golem Court to finalize your enrollment." Ambrose said. Scar nodded and shut the book in front of them. The two of them paused, letting the room empty as the rest of the teachers left to go back to their classes. When the entryway cleared they left. Scar blinked as he exited the building. The sun overhead was almost blinding against the clear sky. Scar stood for a second and stared at the scene in front of them. A tranquil commons lay before him, trees artistically dotting the nearby lake shore. A few students milled about the area, lounging in the sun, napping in the shade, and a certain select few playing in the lake. The sky above was remarkably clear, with only a few small, puffy clouds marking the sky.

A gentle tap on Scar's hand reminded him that he had places to be. With much reluctance Scar eventually turned to follow Ambrose. Still, he spared on last glance over his shoulder at the scene behind him. Counting down in his head, he tore his gaze away and followed the headmaster to Golem Court.

Once in there, they met with a striking stork. Scar took the papers and hurriedly filled them in, handwriting a blur. He returned the papers to the stork, who promptly rushed off, insisting on filing them as soon as he could. Scar turned to Ambrose, looking for an answer as to what he should do next. Ambrose tossed a small key his way. Scar caught it, almost dropping it in the frantic grapple he made in his attempt to catch it. "What's this for?"

"Your room. You didn't think I would admit you without having housing ready for you?" Ambrose said. Scar raised an eyebrow, eyes widening in shock.

"Just like that?"

"You're a student. No student should have to earn their housing."

Scar nodded, but stared at the key for a few seconds more before pocketing it. "Alright then. If there's nothing else?"

"You may go. Your classes should start next week." Ambrose said. Overhead thunder rumbled. A drop of rain fell from the sky. "I would suggest getting inside before the worst hits us." Ambrose said.

Scar nodded. Something was nagging at the back of his mind though. Hadn't the skies just been clear? And Scar peered over the edge of the tunnel wall. They still were - just not here. "Sir? Sir!" he shouted over the roar of the thunder. Ambrose turned back to Scar.

"I don't know if this really concerns you - but the skies over the Commons are clear. To my knowledge, storms don't just appear out of nowhere. There's been no clouds overhead for the past hour. I'm pretty sure this is a magically generated storm."

Of course shit would start happening the moment he appeared anywhere. That's how it **always** went. Scar let out a huge sigh as the next flash of lightning revealed a tall silhouette against the top window of the nearby tower. And it HAD to involve some inevitably delusional power seeker. That's how this sort of story always went, at any rate, and Scar was just mad that this had to be the start to the answers he'd get about why he was here.

No way to know why he was dropped here specifically if he didn't enter. Scar shoved open the heavy wooden door, intent on beating what answers he could get out of the universe. He didn't check whether or not Ambrose was behind him. This was his fight, and those were his answers to be given. No one was going to stop him from reaching them.


	5. Ravenwood's Initiation RItual

What Scar saw when he ran into the tower was about as stereotypical as he could imagine. In front of him stood a tall, pale man, dressed in a fancy looking black robe lined with gold trimming. He had long, braided raven hair and a moustache that framed his lips and chin, and ended in two narrow points well below them. On top of this heap of stereotypes was the fact that the man was rifling through bookshelves filled with books on Necromancy. Not creepy or villainous at all.

"Malistaire?" Ambrose asked, looking at the man with a mixture of emotion that Scar could only describe as regret and pity.

Malistaire gave Ambrose a passing glance before settling on Scar, sizing him up. Scar stood tall, back ramrod straight in an effort to reach his full height of six foot and a few odd inches. Scar thanked the Gods that he had his hair up in a ponytail. It gave him a few inches. Still, he was the one staring up at Malistaire. Might as well make it a good stare, one that hopfully would leave the villainous cliche wary of the Diviner standing before him.

Ambrose broke their stares by speaking up. "You are no longer welcome here. Why have you returned?"

Malistaire turned his attention away from Scar, albeit reluctantly. "I am here to resolve our unfinished business. _This_ is your newest student? I'd have thought you better than resorting to placing children at risk to fight your battles."

Ambrose's eye narrowed, but he said nothing. Scar's hand inched closer to his spell deck, small sparks jumping along his fingers, practically itching for the freedom the spells would give them. H had to be careful though - it looked like Ambrose and Malistaire knew each other, and while Malistaire made the hairs on the back of Scar's neck stand on end, he wasn't about to murder someone who could possibly be talked down in cold blood. And then Scar saw the shadows in the back.

They were well hidden. The tower wasn't exactly the brightest area in the first place, but in those shadows stood two black voids. They were vaguely humanoid. Henchmen. They had to be. Two sets of yellow eyes opening, looking at their competition. Scar took out his deck, prepared to fight. If Malistaire was ready to hurt someone over this then Scar was ready to fight back.

The two henchmen stepped forward into the light, realizing that their cover had been blown. They were draconian with fierce blood-orange scales and fire in their eyes. And spells too, if Scar was right about what he was about to face. Malistaire looked back at them and then turned back to the bookshelves. "Deal with the student - I will meet you outside." With that the draconians passed him and Scar ran up to meet them, instinctually calling forth the battle circle customary for these sort of things. Ambrose turned to look at Malistaire for a second before tearing his gaze away to look back at the duel.

Scar was holding his own, small sparks and bolts of lightning whizzing and flying all over the battlefield. However, one thing became immediately evident upon looking at the spectacle. Scar was not a sustain fighter, and his opponents' attacks were taking their toll on him. Already he was struggling to concentrate and was stumbling over his incantations.

Ambrose had to help. With a wave of his hand he cast a spell, healing Scar's injuries and restoring his mana. A brief sigh of relief.

"Use this." Ambrose ordered, tossing a card Scar's way.

Scar caught the golden card, eyeing it warily. A fire spell. Meteor strike. While every wizard was taught the fundamentals of the other schools, Scar was rusty on his Pyromancy casting techniques. Using Divination for so long meant sacrificing the exact details on the other school's casting rituals. Still, it was the best weapon he had at his disposal at the moment. Scar channeled his energy, taking a deep breath to concentrate what mana he could on the successful cast. Scar let the incantation fall from his lips, ancient power dripping from every word said, the voice of the Creator Gods faintly echoing in the words. A rift opened and giant flaming meteors began to rain down from the sky, carving a small burnt swath in the wooden floor. Scar shielded his eyes and turned away from the blast of heat and light that followed.

When he looked up all was said and done and the draconians had retreated. Scar was left frantically putting out small fires that were strewn across the floor. Perhaps he had put a bit too much effort on perfecting the incantation. Better safe than sorry.

Malistaire had disappeared in the chaos, presumably with whatever book or knowledge he had came here for. The tower itself was in a total state of disarray, with books laying all over the floor and papers lining the corners where the walls met the floor. Clawmarks showed where the draconians had stood not moments before, long trailing ones leading to the door evidence of Scar's victory. The smoke made the air hazy and difficult to breath, and a heavy atmosphere hung over the building, like an anvil waiting for the rope holding it to fail.

Scar took a moment to gather himself, tending to the small cuts he had picked up since being healed and readjusting his armor in places. He reshuffled his deck, carefully replacing his used and discarded cards and inspecting all for any potential damage. Finally, when he was ready, he took a deep breath and turned to face Ambrose.

"What the hell kind of graduation hazing ritual was that?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet u thought I was dead. U thought wrong.


	6. Chapter 6

Ambrose sighed. "This will be a long story. Do you want to listen or would you rather explore Ravenwood first?"

"I can wait." Scar replied.

Ambrose nodded. "Wizard City has been experiencing problems with the undead for the past several months. I had suspected Malistaire to be behind them, but until today I didn't have enough proof to found those suspicions in. This all started around the time his wife, Sylvia, died. Tragic really, far too young. It devastated everyone in the family and in their circle of friends. Malistaire took it the worst though. A few days after Sylvia died he went to their classrooms - they both used to teach here, you know - to gather their things. Next thing I know, the Death school was collapsed. Malistaire's doing, and no one is really sure of where it went. The undead started appearing, and Wizard City's been in a state of emergency ever since. We have had to resort to sending out some of our most talented students and staff to the field to clear out the streets to make simply living here safe."

Scar sat cross-legged, listening in silence. Answers at last, and even answers that made sense, albeit not encouraging ones. "You need them dealt with." he stated.

"Yes. You are not from here though, and I have no way of assessing your skill-"

"I survived opening a portal from the interdimensional part of that space if that satisfies your skill requirement." Scar said. "I am offering my help. I did not come here to go to school, I came here to practice my craft so that when I return home I am better able to help them. Let me help."

Ambrose nodded. The boy had come through the portal far better equipped than any simple wanderer would be, and made a good point about opening the portal by himself. "Very well then... mister?"

"Scar."

"Scar? Scar. You have my permission to take part in our field work, on the condition that you first go to the infirmary to get yourself looked at." Ambrose said.

Scar nodded. "Very well then. I suppose after I shall go have a look about the safe areas of town. Good day, and if you could, please tell whatever poor sod that cleans this up that I apologize for the mess? Thank you." he said, hurriedly turning on his heel and making a beeline for the door. Scar practically ran down the tower stairs, taking them two and three at a time, ignoring the sharp stabs of pain highlighting exactly where the Draconians had landed a nasty blow. Those could be dealt with later. For now, Scar had to see what damage his portal stunt had inflicted.

Scar ran through both the Commons and the Ravenwood proper tunnel, skidding to a stop once he reached the end. He frantically looked for where he had fallen out of. There had been a hole in the ground - must have been where Malistaire sunk the death school - but where was it? Scar set off on a slow lap around the ring of schools. The tree at the center looked familiar, but Scar decided not to give it a second glance. Trees don't move. It would still be there when Scar wanted a better look at it. Scar finally stopped when he happened upon the hole.

It was a lot larger than he had been expecting. The schools themselves were huge, obviously, so a hole where one had been was bound to be massive. But this hole surpassed even that size. The wall encircling Ravenwood proper was broken by the hole, pieces of stone still occasionally crumbling off and falling into the abyss. There were no signs of any reinforcement being done, no scaffolding or boards to shore up the wall or its surrounding area. Abandoned.

The air around the area didn't help either. While Scar acknowledged that this area had once housed the Death school, it would still have had an aura of liveliness. If for nothing else, the students attending. The students would have been lively, still joking around and meeting with their friends when the school was still here. Scar closed his eyes for a moment, turning to face the back of the tree. He could see faint echoes of the past year. A couple, standing under the branches, hidden away by the shadows provided by both the tree and the surrounding schools. A pair of students, supposed to be studying, but instead giggling over something in their book. Family members meeting up after class to walk home together.

Turning back to where the Death school had been revealed more memories. The trace of a class going on, teacher - Malistaire? - encouraging a student who seemed to be having particular troubles. Students in their mock duels, eyes wide with amazement as their spells went through. The whispers of a class caught up in their studies. A happier time.

Gone now. Scar opened his eyes. The air practically dripped with sadness, loneliness. Longing. Laying bare the hopes, dreams, and wishes of those who once walked here.

Scar decided to leave. It was all too personal, all at once. The oppressive weight of the confluence of magical energies in the air and threaded throughout the earth was too much. Too much to see, and coupled with the deafening, maddening silence it was a sensory hell.

It was a good time to head to the infirmary. Even if someone happened to be seriously injured, it would still be more lively than this place.

Scar pushed open the door to the infirmary, itself a part of the Life school. He was greeted by two familiar faces upon his arrival.

Across the room sat a a boy, covered head to toe in black and another one, dressed in many different shades of brown, ranging from a rich russet color to deep chocolates to the lightest of beiges, embellished with rich crimson flairs. Fuck.

The boy in black was the one Scar had punched upon his arrival at Ravenwood.

And of course they were both staring at him now. Of fucking course they were.


End file.
